The Gravedigger: Vengeance
by Kamagua
Summary: Old Gods and Demons have faltered. A king dethroned and the wings of death clipped. Yet you are left wanting; your destinies unfulfilled. So close your eyes, champions of Azeroth and dream your last dream. For soon all that shall remain is the Nightmare
1. Chapter 1: Wrong Stop

"You are doing to wrong, you idiot!" A cracking whip is nothing compared to the fury of this woman's vile tongue's thrashing, "place the back leg behind…no!" Gentle footsteps dance across the ground's fine surface, "were you born without a brain, or was your hindrance self-inflicted?"

I sigh, jabbing the iron rod into the moist dirt as she sweeps in, her shadow as dark as Deathwing's eclipsing wing, "Really, woman?" I cock my head, throwing a partial gaze upon her while allowing sight upon the instrument. "Why don't you get your hands dirty, eh? Wait. Or have you grown inept from your mindless servant's handling your every need?"

Tapping footsteps flutter upon my ear. A heavy metal slams forcefully into the ground, tiny tremors rippling from the impact. "Inept? I'll show you inept while I strangle the life from you with my bare hands!"

Glinting armor shifts into view, the metal bouncing meek rays upon my eyes. The vile temptress stands only inches away. Odd, though, as my knees dig into timid crust, that such reflections would find me with such ease. She must be closer than I initially thought. Not that it truly surprises me. Must likely a swift kick is soon to follow.

I reposition myself, shifting my torso to allow proper recoil when the devious snap kick is delivered. Casting my eyes in her said direction, I find myself instantly dismayed. When I said she stood inches away, I may have been overdramatic at the time. Now, with my eyes fixated upon her thick calves and thighs, I find the irony behind my sarcastic words: she is seriously inches away from me.

Thin chainmail litters her lower legs and interweaves into fine, gray olive-colored leather that hugs her curves in wildly flattering ways. Knee-high boots glorify the muscle-built sections of her mile-long track-runners and end at the belt that hugs her hips.

Once again, the well detailed, interconnected chain rings loop around her finely molded mid-drift and hang from the leather brassiere – though that may be concoctive in nature I still say it because it makes her angry. She is most pleasing when angry…

_You were saying? Young one, stop day-dreaming. You know it gets…weird…_

Anyway…

From this angle and distance, I find it rather…difficult…to make past her chest, but her downward slanted brow and infuriated stare do a fine job at retrieving my attention. It is then, her blonde and silver hair dangling from beneath her leather encrusted cloth hood as silken strands of a jewel crafter's delight, do her elegant facial features beam forth.

Gnarled, maroon lips glisten while pearl-white teeth gnarl into a disgruntled frown. Gentle, majestically curved cheek-bones hold as the perfect prelude to that which fuels my internal love and lust. Just above her cheeks, positioned perfectly apart from her thin nose, is a pair of ruby gems. It is with these precious stones where burning waves of scarlet energies radiate as her ever-flowing malice.

These flames roll with her mood, and intensify the beauty within the initial orbs. They are why I go above and beyond to draw her anger. They are what dance within my fantasies and they are the source of my ever-spanning devotion to her Angelique features. Yet, as I gaze into these dazzling diamonds do I notice a strange altercation in their normal glare; while the fires still burn as dark as a raging inferno, her eyes themselves seem pinkish. Dulled, to put it bluntly.

_You are just seeing things. Young one, maybe it's a bad angle?"_

Sighing, I lose my fantastic train of thought as my inner-voices interrupt said focus. Though, the latter of the two may be right. Maybe I am simply too close to her to get a good view of her eyes.

_You ninny, maybe she is too close to you? Young one, you know you can never be too close to her._

True. True.

"Starring again, Goldfish?" She shuffles, her shifting features luring me back, "why don't you take a picture? Would save me the hatred wasted."

Focusing upon her marvelous eyes, I raise an eyebrow and reply, "I tried, remember? You broke my camera, hit me with its remains and then you had to be restrained by Nathanos."

"I never said I'd let you keep the picture, Goldfish," rather oddly her eyes sweep side to side as if something catches her attention. The movement is brief and from her continued, unbroken voice I don't think she even noticed her own actions, "I just wanted to have a reason to hit you again."

I smirk, the words coming are uncontrollable, "you wouldn't hit me. Again. Besides, why would I need a copy when the original masterpiece is always readily available?"

Burning eyes narrow and in a swift, blurred movement she crouches. Once distance facial features draw level with mine. Every aspect deemed worthy are but few minuscule centimeters away. And her eyes, the burning, slightly dulled gems of beauty lock with mine. From this position I can feed upon her truest intent, her truest natural bounty.

Alas, as I lose myself in her, I fail to notice the frown, and I falter to react to her snapping mitt. Painfully her palm slams into my lower jaw while her sleek digits and thumb form a cup around my cheeks. She pinches…hard…

"You are lucky I have no desire to wander this cursed forest alone, Goldfish; otherwise I'd stab you and let you bleed out upon this bed of rotted grass. "

My vision is partially blurred by my own overlapping skin that is so kindly pushed inward. I blink, still fixated upon the gems. As I gaze forward I watch as her pupils darken, returning to the fine scarlet hue I so easily remember. Simultaneously my cheekbones begin freeze as if turning to ice. It takes but a moment for me to realize what is happening. And it takes equally as so for me to smirk.

Her frown shrinks, forming a tight set of quivering lips. She begins to inhale and exhale more frequently while her hand begins to tremble. Time and time again this is the same occurrence: my frost-fed person the counterpart to her ever-warming self. It is exactly the same as all previous events when we touch, flesh to flesh…

"Sylvanas." Her eyes oscillate her determination and willingness incapable of backing down. Her resilience is her only resistance against that which burns through her veins –my gift to her. "You cannot hide it. You are shaking. I can feel it. And I know full well so can you."

Instantly she releases her grip, narrows her angry brow and snaps upright. She grunts, her heaving chest still expanding and collapsing rapidly. "What are you…" she hesitates before she gasps and…

_PHWACK, _the leathery boot slams into my chest and sends me backwards. Stings and needle-pricks ripple across my chest, but it wasn't too bad. Alas, her raging voice and optical flames matching that of a forest fire tell me a story of future pain to come.

"Are you saying I _enjoy_ that feeling?" She glances at the hand she touched me with, "That I get…_pleasure_…out of touching yout?" Her orbs pierce through her very palm, "If I could afford it, I would hack my hand off and slap you with just so I could inflict pain on you without gaining that horrible burn again!"

Her eyes drift back towards me. Once again the pinkish hue has returned to her eyes; though, strangely, while she stares at me angrily, it feels as if she is looking straight through me…

"I cannot believe the idiot that got us stranded here thinks I get ecstasy from his touch. Unbelievable!"

Instinctively I bound to my feet, the accusations wild, "I am the idiot that got us stranded here? I am? They told us to go in one at time. It was you that got impatient and dragged my supposedly slow butt through that portal together. You!"

I pause, deciphering her complete sentence. "And who said I thought you get overwhelming delight when you touch me? I just said you feel something when you do. Clearly you do given how defensive you just got!"

_You two are a wee bit loud. Young one, quiet down…_

Our voices echo across the forest. Mine reverberate behind her initial raging onslaught and fade to her second barrage, "Defensive? Killing you would mean I have grown defensive!" Her yells bounce across the forest, "That, though, sounds good right about now!"

_You need to silence…_

"Please, you have had a dozen chances to kill me. What makes this time any different from the last few botched attempts that…"

Leaping forward, the swift woman catches me in the chest and slams me against a nearby tree in a blurred moment. Pain rolls across my ribs and spine while gentle warmth cascades down the side of my throat. Simultaneously a chill caresses the exact thermal impact zone.

A moment passes. Her face is once again close to mine. An arm is raised and a blade is drawn. I need not look to know its location. I need not know if it caught me. She cut me. She never cut me before…

Her eyes narrow and she speaks: her voice firm, quiet, and quite terrifying, "The difference, Goldifsh, is that no one will be able to find your remains when I am through with you. "

Silence pursues. All grows still. All say for her heavy breathing and gently humming eyes. For a long, drawn instance she holds firmly against my neck. She sways not nor moves not. No movement that is born from the woman is the flame that rages from her eyes.

Suddenly her lips form into a gnarled, profound frustrated state. Steel is slightly dug deeper. An internal battle rages within the woman, and with its conclusion comes my fate. Though, as I stare into her orbs as I have done a thousand times before, I see the same rage, the same fury as prior. I see her…and her unyielding beauty…

And it is as if she sees something in me…

"Ah!" Loudly she screams, jerking back from my position. Instantly I throw my hand to the gash, only to find a feeble knick in its stay. She, unconcerned with my conditions, spins and throws her back to me. Grunts and groans rain from the rampaging woman as she leaves me and the strange elfish device behind.

I sigh, take a deep, calming breath and gawk as she marches into the thicket. Hesitant, I throw one last glance at that blasted hunk of metal and I know well of its uselessness. Casting my gaze upon her once more, I cannot help but push from the tree and slowly take off in pursuit.

Alas, I do need the woman. I don't want to be in the forest alone either. Though, as much as she hates to admit, she needs me too. That is quite possibly why she didn't just dig to the bone a moment ago. Possibly. All I know is that she is my lady, my queen, my angel. If only she could rid herself of that inner-demon. Then, maybe, she wouldn't be such of a banshee.

But I guess that is what makes Sylvanas Windrunner who she is…

I just wish it didn't hurt so much…


	2. Chapter 2: Ode to Vengeance

_**Bam! Garlic added.**_

_**Wait...**_

_**Here is another chapter; tomorrow another for Tides of the Sun.**_

_**Feast, hungry eyes! Feast!**_

* * *

Rotted leaves crunch beneath my feet; the echoes dancing delicately upon the air and reverberating amongst the pitch-black canopy. Light itself seems trapped by the clouding foliage. Fragments of illumination trickle through the dense covering, but such a minuscule amount it leaves one's eyes wanting.

I shift my gaze from the depressing overlay downward. Alas, the trunks of the surrounding forest do little to quell the overwhelming despair present. Standard scars riddle the face of the tree's bark, yet as one stare's upon the surface they are embraced by a fine, black material.

Running my fingers across the awkward flesh, I find the sensation…odd. I expect a scratchy response, but the feeling is instead smooth – as if rubbing a river rock. Puzzled, I break a piece from the tree and draw it close.

The surface does indeed appear sleek as if polished. Bumps litter the surface, yet roll under one's fingers gently. I farrow my brow, flipping the severed portion in my hand. Light glides across the surface, reflecting majestically upon the fine rocky bark. I cannot resist but take a quick glance upwards once more, quite surprised that such little light brings such grand displays from this bark.

Glimpsing back at the item, I return to my examination. I flip it once more, watching the black face glisten to my movements. It reminds me of obsidian stone, oddly enough. And to add upon this wonder, it doesn't reflect my image back at me as expected. Maybe I am just assuming too much of this rock…bark…

_You make wild accusations all the time. Young one, put the evil tree down._

Evil? Who said it was evil?

_You need someone to tell you that Rock Tree is evil? Young one, it wreaks of iniquitous crafting!_

Are you saying because it is pitch-black and full of qualities never announced by trees before that it is evil? Ah. Well, when you put it that way it does seem rather…dark…

_You, sir, need a picture drawn for you. Young bug, he already has the object before him: he cannot possibly get a clearer picture!_

Hey, maybe I just don't assume because it is different that it is hellfire-bent. Look at me. I am weird, yet I am not evil.

_You are jumping to conclusions. You love to torture us! Young one, the images == the dark, dark images!_

Come on, I don't torture you guys.

_You have no idea what agonizing lives we live! Young one, it's so cold in here…_

Hey! Why can't you guys go back to fighting each other? This is…out of place. Go on. Support me as usual before I do something crazy.

_You are planning…what? Young one, you couldn't stab yourself with Rock Bark there._

I…I…I could slap Sylvanas' rear end.

_You wouldn't dare! Young one, don't do it! You are suicidal! Young one, I apologize!_

Yeah, that is what I thought…

"Goldfish!" Shattering my wandering is the high-pitched rage of my beloved, "Hurry up! I am not explaining to Nathanos why I showed up without you at arm!"

I drop the bark, turning my attention on the woman a good dozen yards away. Sighing, I take to my feet wisely before replying, "Oh. Now it matters if I live?" I place my hand on the clotted gash at my throat, "pretty sure you were ready to let me bleed out a few minutes ago."

Coming upon her, I catch glimpse of her burning eyes as she retorts, "Don't flatter yourself. I still plan on ending you, Goldfish." I stop a short distance from her. Starring into her beautiful orbs, I find myself perplexed. Once scarlet, then light-red, now pink her eyes seem to be losing color. Odd. "Hey! Focus!" She snaps thrice, "I don't know if I should slap you for starring at my eyes or not! You are worse than the masses with your gawking. The only difference is you actually look me in the eye!"

I smirk, "Want me to stare at your butt instead? Ease your burden?"

She narrows her brow, setting me ablaze in her mind. Strangely her eyes begin to oscillate as if she is searching for something. A frown forms upon her lips, but I think it does so for reasons beyond myself. Strangely she loses her usual hatred and she grunts, turning without saying a word.

Marching into the thicket once more, she moves with a new, displeasing stepr. She marches through the forest, dodging trees with a rather unconfident wobble. Normally her step is strong and firm - her stride matching that of nobility. But now…she seems…distracted…

I slowly take off after her, keeping her movements in check. She throws an arm to the side, swiping it at a nearby tree. Gently she places her palm against the nearest trunk and halts. After a moment she throws a partial gaze rearward at me as if examining my position. She finds me after a few seconds of awkward starring and she groans. Without hesitating she snaps forward once more, trampling angrily onward. After a few misplaced steps she snags her foot on a rock and stumbles forward.

My chest clenches even as she grabs a branch and pulls herself upright. Flaming eyes sweep her sides as she hunts for the culprit of her fall. As she glances upon the jagged stone, I come within yards of her, hoping she is alright. Overzealous concern, I know, yet…I have never seen her trip before…

"Unbelievable," she shouts. "How did I manage to miss a stupid little rock?"

I stop short of her, speaking in hopes of bringing her comfort, "My Lady, it is almost dark as night in this forest. It happens to all of us…"

"It hasn't happened to you yet, and it certainly shouldn't happen to me!" Fiercely she snaps, turning my direction. Her eyes direct towards me, yet seem to land upon something else.

"My lady, you…"

"Stop calling me that! You are not Forsaken! You are not even undead! The only reason I tolerate your presence is because of my Champion! If it wasn't for him I'd have your head mounted in my throne room!"

I hesitate, the words almost hurtful. Of course, I know she only speaks out of frustration. Let me redirect her anger, "At least I could be with you at all times."

"Ah!" She leans forward, utter hatred spewing from her whitish orbs. A breeze tassels her hair as she continues her raging, "You are so thick-headed! You are so…" suddenly she halts, her lips quickly molding to that of concern. Her long ears twitch, quivering as if yearning. "Goldfish," her fury has subsided, "did you hear that?"

I make to reply, but the woman is wildly swift. Pivoting upon her heels she throws her back to me and draws her bow. An arrow is strung, posture is properly positioned, and alert focus obtained – the Banshee Queen ready to strike. Eyes align with the assassin's harp, a single pluck all that is needed to release a melody of chaos. Yet she simply drags the weapon side to side, scanning for her victim.

I take a step forward. She continues her search. Another, gentle foot of mine placed ahead. Cautious undead eyes peruse tree after tree. A third soft step launched; a soft crunch follows…

Spinning, she hurls her aim upon me. A wooden shaft holds skillfully still while a metal tip glistens inches away from my face. Unmoving, elegant arms run to sturdy shoulders which hold upon them a keen bastion for which the focused, fiery orbs rest. If she were to shoot, the back of my skull would catch the metal…

"Goldfish?" Calmly, eerily she speaks.

A moment passes, a response clearly desired. "Yes?"

Oddly, she exhales. She almost seems relieved by my very voice. That's a first. "Don't sneak up on me, you idiot." Twirling, she throws her gaze forward once more. "I'd hate to shoot you on accident." Oddly, her words hold no sarcasm. Not any that I notice…

As I keep still, the Queen hunting, a gentle gust cuddles my cheeks. It is delicate and calming to the touch and with it swirls a sweet whisper: a fine whistle that finely quells all agony and anxiety. Dulling, the whimsical wind fades, yet the call that came still chimes softly.

High-pitched yet soothing, the noise emitted intensifies with every moment's passing. Harmonious hums hover upon its growing beat. A familiar sound, I am certain, yet its origins are beyond my grasp. Where have I heard this before?

Breaking my focus, Sylvanas speaks "Goldfish, you hear that now? Correct?"

Her question is bitter and commanding. As expected. "Yes." I realign my attention to the ever-rising melody, "Yes, I hear it."

Now it screeches sweetly as if yards away. It is a gentle calming tone – poetic amongst the darkness. Rising and falling, its pitch fluctuates ever-so-slightly. As I listen, every note recorded, a distant memory comes to mind.

A past occurrence in the Eastern Plaguelands. Much of it is a blur, but I can see Carol Redpath, his arms raised and his head cocked. Placed against his cheek, one arm swaying to and fro while the other's fingers dance, is a stringed instrument. From it wails the same glorious tune as now. It is a violin.

"Goldfish!" Sylvanas sweeps her bow, hunting for the intangible, "where is it? Where is it coming from?"

I hesitate, her concern rather unnerving. She almost speaks as if…rattled…

"Hope?"

I throw my eyes upon the Lady; wide and dismayed, they scream a story of horror. My maw sunders, yet the words are tethered to the motionless tongue. It is not from her nervous, uncontrolled actions where I flinch. Nor does my fear rise from her evident unease. No, what crushes my courage…is that…she said my name…

"Hope!"

"Sweet lass, stay your frightened tongue!" A voice spills from the darkness. It is deep, yet gentle with its call. "Hear nigh my words, smoothly rung!" It comes from all angles. It echoes across all planes. "Upon my fiddle the path paved! With my Ode to Vengeance your fate waved!"

As his words spew and the violin flutters, the overwhelming darkness fades. Once nearly impossible to see, now the lands revealed. A gray haze still lingers - a dense fog. Yet the forest is visible, and a road ahead in full view….

"Take heed to that which lay ahead. Stray far and the lovers' eternity wed!" My eyes uncontrollably fall upon the path cut into the forest floor: simple dirt road, shrouded by looming trees and a black wall to either side. "One lover lost of pride! The other to be her guide!"

Suddenly a figure bursts from the thicket. Skipping joyfully, the man takes his place amongst the road – a violin within his oscillating arms. Black tailcoats whip and trash at heavy, black boots and hug to equally as dark pants. The leggings are baggy and bulge from the upper edges of stompers and his silver belt. Matching that of the pants, the vest is black and baggy. It spills from above the belt and runs wrinkled to his neck, ruffling to the man's abrupt movements.

The violin screeches as he skids to a halt, the side of his head facing us, yet his features fully felt. Delicate fibers dangle from a silken scarf that entangles his nose and maw. A wide-rimmed hit rests upon his head while a set of violet diamonds burn as diabolical orbs. From them rises not a sense of terror or misbegotten plots. But his words tell the truth behind his clever eyes…

"Hold your lover close, mighty Hope! Falter and surely her agony impossible to cope…"

"Lover? I am not this fool's lover!" As he attempts to continue on, Sylvanas interrupts him. She sways back and forth, daring to pinpoint her target. Her movements are sporadic and disheartening. Her voice is distraught and frustrated, "Hope, where is he? Give me a target, so I can puncture his lungs and feed on his dying breath!"

With her words, my heart races. I weakly raise my arm and reply, "Sylvanas…he is right in front of you…."

"What?" She twists back to me, her eyes feebly placed upon me. Calm, meager flames rise from that which is normally an inferno. "That…that is not possible…"

My eyes lock with hers, yet she stares not upon me. She glances beyond me, at something out of sight. And as I stare into her glorious pools…his voice beats down upon us…

"In your hands, your lover's fortune felled. An eternity of horrors for her beheld! A story of destiny's passing! A tale of the master's casting!"

I feast upon his voice as I do my Queen. Her pupils are hollow, the black outlines encompassing whitish pits – the red all but gone. And as I stare upon my lady, I find my revelation. Alas, it sinks beneath the call of the dark being before us…to the call of the musician…

"Enluzen's story for you to behold! An epic molded of anguish...yours told…" my eyes break, switching to the tormentor. His voice pierces to the core. His words draw ice to the vein and hairs to their ends. And his fiddle caresses the dark truth behind his lines, "A hero to witness his lover's repetitive end. His one dream: her agony to transcend."

Strings strung. Notes played. All while his final words are spoken, "Yet it is this hero's unyielding nightmare brought true. His lover lost, the darkness hung and strew. A hero's dream mangled… vengeance…forever to rue."


	3. Chapter 3: For My Queen

Dust darts to the dance of the diabolical player. Stone pebbles flutter and skip to his swaying soles. Overwhelming joy radiates from his person – a twisted tormentor born true. Floating from his fiddle, the notes riddled and dark, a sweet, sinister melody is strung.

And then, as if satiated with his own craft, lifts the fine bow from the wooden body. Stillness settles upon the air as the figure lowers both instrument and the bow to his sides. Eerily he casts his gaze squarely upon the two of us.

"Hope," Sylvanas quietly emits. "What is happening?"

Still quite baffled, I blink at the Queen as she sweeps the horizon. She appears as if hunting, yet her prey is in clear view. Of course, my hunch of her situation is growing more and more truthful…

"Goldfish!" she shouts. "Tell your Queen what is happening, NOW!"

Fury rolls from her lips; though her rage is soured by anxiety that lurks within. She shifts a foot, attempting to discover the beast on her own – or possibly to assault me. But it is a fool's step. Snagging a root, she is thrown off balance. She stumbles side to side and then finally wobbles rearward. I make to move, but even when ungraceful her movements are still swift.

Slamming into me, she holds still. There is not attempt at escape. There is no sudden furious departure followed by a screech of utter hatred. No, she presses her back against me, shifting slightly to my heaving chest. Gently, she trembles for reasons unknown. Or, quite possibly, it is I the one quivering.

My heart races pounding within my chest as a drum – tapping my insecurities against her soft back. I want to grab her, hold her, but…my own foolish fear keeps my arms at bay. My irrational dismay sends shockwaves of shivers across my skin, drawing hair to their ends. And then, as if teasing me, she tilts her rearwards, her hood touching the side of my face. Chilled air wafts from her grayed flesh. My now rapid-fire breath shoots pockets of warm air across her long, twitching ears, tousling her hair as it passes.

Frozen as if a school boy upon his first kiss, I know not what to do. The forest, the monster, the darkness, all of it fades into nothingness. All that remains is this. All that exists is this moment…

"Hope?" Soft and delicate she speaks. "I need to tell you something."

My eyes widen, and I fight the overwhelming urge to shake. "Yes?"

"This may startle you, but…" she turns her cheek towards me, speaking as if to the most trusted of persons, "…I cannot see."

I swallow harsh and fierce, mustering the strength to speak, "Yes. I kinda figured that…"

"Well," nervously she speaks, "whatever world my body currently exists within is invisible to me. Whatever, wherever we are is lost to the land I see now." She inhales, "that being said, I am blind. So…" her maw quivers, the words to come beyond her reckoning, yet she knows they must be spoken. She exhales. "I need you to be my guide."

I nod, my head caressing hers. "Good," she emits. "Now, I need you to place her hands on mine."

Hesitating, the words strike me dumb. Shaking, uncertainty all I know, I lift my arms slowly. An eternity passes as I raise my arms equal to hers. Pausing, I cannot help but recall all past occurrences like this. And, as I tremble in my spot, she nods slightly.

"It's ok," her voice is as gentle as an angel's. "I won't hurt you - now, anyway."

And thus, my hands swiftly clamping to hers, I do as commanded. I tremble, shaking her arms slightly.

"Hold still. We have to make this count." Her arms are light. They are limp. "You have to position me, Hope. Aim me!"

Startled, the awkwardness behind those words grand, I shift her harshly. Jerking her hands into proper position, the bow vertical and aligned for the course ahead, I aim her as beckoned. Once ready, I grip her wrists firmly and squeeze her betwixt my arms.

"Woah, Hope. I see you like it rough." Comically she speaks, though her tense muscles signify her true prepared form. "We ready?"

I nod.

"Good," she replies as she rolls her shoulders and draws the bow into the hunter's position. "Loosen up, Goldfish. I'll take it from here."

Once again, as told, I follow her orders promptly. My muscles relax, and I allow her to do as a master should. In a swift, elegant sweep she throws her aiming arm rearward. Awkward though it may seem the two of us still move the weapon majestically as if we are one. And in a steady cascade of movements, the arrow is let upon the air.

Straight and true it glides for our target. Air parts to its commanding presence. Wind whistles to its velocity. Yet, as hard as we might, the beast is but amused by the happenings. Shifting as the shaft arches for the kill, he evades it tactfully.

He chuckles as he repositions, "I must say that was quite impressive!" He tucks the fiddle under his so he may clap mockingly, "And how romantic! Gave me goose bumps! It amuses me how true my master's praises were…and are!" Whistles waft from his lips as he continues his praise with the sound alone.

Sylvanas flinches, "Hope, let me guess…we missed?" Agitated words are beaten angrily from her maw. "Were we even close? Tell me we were close…"

"Dear, you two did marvelously! Such teamwork! If I wasn't so grand myself then I would surely be a deader man this moment!" He cackles. "Splendid!"

She gnarls her teeth, "Why don't you give me back my sight. I guarantee you will love what I have to show you then."

"Oh, the kitty has teeth! Fangs, I must say! Alas, what I have in store for you does require you in your current state…" as he speaks, his eyes drift towards the heavens. It is as if his own words are simply too much for him. Oddly, as he gazes at the dark sky he gasps, "Dear me! It would seem that you two took far longer than anticipated!"

His gaze falls back upon us, "It would seem that our time is spent. Though, what I leave in my hasty departure will have to be far blunter than I originally planned for." Lifting his fiddle back to his chin he prepares to play, "Let us begin, shall we?"

And so the melody comes. With it returns his wild dancing, this time his direction guides him back into the thicket. While he moves he sings loudly, "Two heroes upon a darkened trail. Run strong and fast lest they fail." Dust stirs beneath his feet. Dirt is spurred as he dances up the slight slope.

"For upon their heels the shadows strike. An army yearning for their heads on a pike." Vanishing into the black abyss, he makes his exit. But his voice lingers on, "Alas, my friends, that is all there is it say…"

For a moment, as the echoes of his voice extinguish, stillness creeps in. Sylvanas pushes from me, anxiously examining her unseen. She turns towards me, her white pearls searching for me, yet as her maw opens the beast thought gone cries out…

"That, my friends, is the cue for you to run away."

Suddenly, roaring from behind is uproar of activity. I spin, embracing the rising commotion. My heart drains. Ice fills in warm blood's wake. A clear opening stands where whence we came. Rows upon rows of trees loom, their shadows creeping across the span. Amidst the roots, standing lopsided is the small metal device we abandoned. And as I stare upon it, the walls encompassing the opening collapse, the item vaporized horrifically…

"Goldfish, care to be useful," my usual Queen asks. "Do tell me what is happening, or I may just have to take those eyes of yours…"

Though her voice does spurn one's soul, it is naught to the rumbling chaos; the same destruction that quickly fills the space between its origins…and us

Grabbing her metal cuffs, I do the only thing I can think of. I do what instinct instructs. I face the road, catapult a leg forward and run. As I move, bounding onto the dirt path, I shout to Sylvanas, "Move! To your feet, my Queen!"

I slow, throwing a weak gaze at her. Her mouth is partially sundered, her eyes inquisitive. Yet, as the roaring continues to rise, her arm at its limits, she cannot help but listen to my words and heed my actions.

"You better know where you are going, Goldfish," she yells to me as she follows my lead. "If you are going to get us killed, I want to make sure I finish you before we go out!"

I tug at her, her pace rather…lacking," Plan to move, my Queen? Or do you want me to leave you behind?"

"How dare you," she angrily retorts. "You are a snail! Please, a snail scuffs at you!" Her arms becomes light while her footsteps rain, "be thankful I need your eyes, or I'd leave you as fodder, fool!"

My legs work to breaking. My lungs heave. Try as I might, it wears at my limbs to maintain this pace. I can simply keep focused on the route ahead. Count every step taken and every step still needing to be. But I cannot break my thought of this pace…

"Come on, Goldfish," she snaps in between my pants. "I feel as if walking!"

Keep focused, Hope. Just keep moving. Ignore the woman. Yes, she was a completely different person moments ago, but you know that was fallacy. She was simply using you, as always. Just ignore her, Hope. Ignore the crashing shadows behind us. Only a short distance now. Only…

"Would you prefer I carry you, Goldfish? We might move faster if I do."

Throwing my eyes back at her, I shout frustrated. "Woman, could you for three seconds shut your mouth?" I direct for her, yet my eyes lock upon a sight that fuels the adrenaline in my veins. "Duck, Sylvanas!"

Bursting through the shadows, jagged blade in hand is a monster born of darkness. Humaniod in nature, yet its flesh and bone of undefined evil. Spinning, jerking at the woman, I pull her from its swinging blow. Metal glistens, sparkling to its own unseen light. Air parts to its sway, an arch burnt into the sky. Sweeping downwards it aims for my lady. I snap at her arm, jerking her violently. She spins, skidding through the now exploding dirt. Skillfully she taps upon her toes. Luckily the blade cuts only inches away. Severed sliver hairs waft upon the air.

Reacting fast, I grab my shovel, rip it from my back and hurl it as a weapon of destruction. In a flash it slashes the sky, follows the spinning force of our interlocked limbs. We move as if dancers on stage, spiraling upon the warpath. And the spade careens into the beast, severing it in two. It explodes into a torrent of black clouds that curl back into the shroud.

Sylvanas whips at my arm. "Goldfish, what was that?" I stumble towards her, barely able to maintain my balance. She too flinches, and she throws her hand upon my wrist, gripping the flesh below. Jerking me to her, we hold still once more, inches from one another.

She breathes heavily, her eyes filling with a glorious red hue of raging fury. Fires roll from her eyes as I remember. Hatred coats her frowned lips and her eyes burn brightly. Oh, how I had almost forgotten their tempting malice…

"Goldfish, you are fortunate." Her eyes lock with mine. "When we are free of this nonsense, I am going to cut your hands off!" Her voice rises, that fury full. "I will cut out your eyes and…"

Abruptly she breaks from me, her eyes landing on something behind. Without a word she forcefully rips me downward. I fall to her side as she throws a hand, blade torn free with speed unmatched at the unseen. A disgruntled groan booms and the same sounds of bursting clouds echo.

I spin, watching the recoiling remains of a monster as they return to the abyss. Sylvanas lets go of my arm and she cackles, "see, fool, you are useless without me…"

Suddenly she silences. I peer to her, watching her eyes fade from ruby, to pink, to white once more. Blinking twice she takes a brief glance at her hands and then back at me. For a moment her eyes oscillate in their sockets. Supple lips quiver and form a curled hook of disgust.

"Of course…," her words are curt and reek of disdain. After a moment she glances once more at her hands. "No, I will need these." Oddly, her farrowed brow screaming internal thought, an agonizing notion crosses her mind. A moment passes as she seems to digest it and then she feebly speaks, "Goldfish, what I ask of you must never leave this path," she turns, equipping her bow as she moves, "grab my waist."

I stand puzzled. Glancing at my surroundings, I discover a multitude of unpleasing sights. To our rear, rumbling and roaring rolls the shadows. Ahead, emerging from darkness is the army the monster so spoke. Yet, as my eyes land on the back of my Queen, I cannot help but find her sight the most terrifying.

I swallow hard, "is this some sort of trick?"

"Goldfish, this may be your one opportunity to touch me with my blessing. Put. Your. Hands. On. My. Waist."

Navigating to her hips, I hesitate. This has to be a trick. She knows we are about to die, and she wants to end me. This will only give her an excuse…

"Hope!" a grand bay rips from her lips. "I do not wish to die blind. Also do not wish to die with you, so do it. Before I get angry."

Hurling one last glimpse at the massing force of monsters before us and then another at the ever encroaching walls of destruction, I examine my options. Sighing, I swiftly move behind her. My hands hover near her soft skin. Ok, Hope, you know you have to do this…

_You ninny, grab the woman! Young one, the female will save you._

And so my fingers gently warp around her chilled, sleek flesh. Ice burns across my fingertips. Chills consume my hands. Frost traverses my forearms. As the cold devours my limbs, I glance at the queen, her eyes burning – the scarlet fury unrestrained. The bow, her harp, the muse of her rage is brought to her chest.

And the arrows are sent mercilessly upon the air.

Foe after foe is struck down, her rage wild. Enemy after enemy is annihilated, her fury grand. And as she plucks her instrument of chaos her feet move swiftly. She moves as if gliding. It is difficult for one as cumbersome as I to keep to her heels.

But even as we grow confident, this minuscule fight jaded, our assailants twist their assault. Bursting from the shadows nearest us is an abomination of the darkness. Too close for my Queen, her bow will be useless at such a range.

With a lone hand I pull my spade to the ready. Swung as any warrior's weapon the spade sweeps for the silencing blow. As many a fiend before it, it retreats back to the shadows - broken. Another beast lunges from the thicket, another for my dealings. Clever hands and sturdy feet lead to this monster's defeat.

Together we are an unstoppable force of destruction. As one we are a war machine. Though she may dislike all thoughts of such, these are the signs of its truth. Her arrows rain as ranged destruction. My spade as the melee equivalent.

Another monster leaps forth, aiming for my Queen. Yet it is nothing, my spade striking it swiftly. Bursting forth, the enemy sends a weak foe once more. Alas, as my arrogance grows, the monster adapts. For bounding from the opposite side a foe strikes. Just barely am I capable of vanquishing this foe…

Then, as if planned, an enemy attacks the vulnerable flank. A blade born of death whips forth, my lady in its path. Awkward and poorly placed my spade is useless. My heart races. My other hand is locked upon her waist – her grand fuel. Adrenaline courses my veins.

All arrogance fades. My ego collapses. Hairs draw to their ends. A raging drum beats anxiety and fear within my soul. Uncertainty envelops as time narrows. She is blind to the strike. There is no way to alert her, not with her keen focus. There is only one way now. Only one action left.

Squeezing her waist, I take the only route available. Spinning us both, I reposition as best I can. The moment becomes a blur. Oddly, a rage of warmth erupts across my lower back and course to my stomach, yet I heed not such foolishness.

"Goldfish, what are you doing?" Her rage reigning as I alter her predetermined course.

Gripping the spade's handle I ready for a strike. Swiftly I dispatch the striker, sending it back from whence it came. Though, I find it quite odd as the weapon seems to grow in weight. I feel my legs weaken, and my pace soften. Placing the dense weapon upon my back, I find no alleviation to the sudden lethargic state.

Yet my concern falls upon the Queen's plan. It takes but a moment to realign on the path plotted. Alas, what first felt simple and mundane now wears upon me.

My lungs grow heavy, almost to the point of breaking. The speed…the speed is just too much. I slow rapidly, hoping a moment's rest is enough. But…but my entire body begins to quiver and shake.

"Goldfish, keep up," her voice booms painfully upon my ears. "Don't get tired on me now! Your Queen commands it!"

Yes. I must obey my Queen. I inhale deeply, and what follows is simply horrific. Agonizing pain surges across my stomach, snapping all the way to my back. Knees buckle, and I falter fully. Breaking from her, I fall, slamming against my shins and hands.

Air hisses in and out my lungs while tormenting needles jab at my abdomen. My hand slaps against my gut. It is moist to the touch. Removing said hand, I draw it forth and peer upon it. Coating it is a fine, ruby substance. It is…blood…

"Goldfish, why did you let go…" I can hear her footsteps and the screeching of pebbles as she halts. "Hope!" Once again the word I dreaded to hear.

Her gentle steps echo as she comes upon me, "What did you do? What did you do?" She seems so angry. "Hope…" she touches my back. Pulses of pain ripple across my spine as she does. "That's why you moved us…"

Pain cripples me, and I fall to my stomach, rolling onto my back. Writhing in pain, I cannot control myself. Muscles snap while my blood chills. Sylvanas' hand presses against my gullet, and I pry my sealed eyelids apart.

I cannot help but look upon her, feasting upon her every detail. Gentle cheeks hold to a sundered maw that quivers slightly. Perky lips shake and tremble near glistening skin. Yet all is paled in comparison of those ruby orbs. Those glorious eyes that spew strength and power; though, her curved brow and widen eyes scream of something else. Of…concern…

And as she eyes me, examining that which is obvious, she hastily surveys the surroundings and throws a stern, focused stare upon me. After a second she shoves a hand under my legs and another beneath my head.

"I am going to get you out of here." Lifting me as if weightless, my Queen removes me from the cold ground. "I have had enough of this foolishness. Let me show you the true might of the Banshee Queen."

My eyes stay fixated upwards, feeding upon the darkened twilight. I can see her gorgeous face from here, but the edges of my reality seem to quiver violently. A sudden wind snaps at my body and I find myself and the surroundings to be moving.

Weak glimpses of shadow monsters pass in and out of sight rapidly. Trees shoot past in a blur. We move so quickly. And with every passing second, my body collecting numbness, the speed seems to intensify. It feels as entire fields are covered in seconds. Yet the speed seems naught to her. The blurred images are insignificant to my Queen. The darkness illuminated by her beauty. And as we move, tucked in her arms, I for a fleeting moment feel at peace. For a single passing instant I feel…safe…

"Hope," she cries. "We are out!" She moves, yet her pace is not slowed. "We are free…"

Alas, her words are nothing. Suddenly, as if on cue, I find myself hurled forward. Tumbling, the ground and sky pass across my view rapidly. Pain sweeps my side as I slam into the ground and roll. It takes but a moment for me to come to stop.

Sylvanas holds against the ground, writhing wildly. She cups her throat, gasping for air. I do not know what struck her, but I yearn to aid her. Even though my body is chilled, my arms and legs growing numb, I want to give her my last bit of strength. But…I cannot…

And then, as I gaze upon her, an object appears in my sight. Slamming into view is a heavy, metal item - a steel stomper. It is a figure, some sort of creature, yet I cannot break from her. I cannot break from my love.

My lover…

As those words enter my mine, so too do the words of the musician. I recall the ode of the fiddler. Every word and note passes across my mind. The entire scheme plotted within my head. And as I gaze upon my lover, her agony mine to bear, I come to realize the truth…

We were never meant to escape…


	4. Chapter 4: The End

Elegant fingers curl around a sleek neck. Each delicate digit appears as if pressing inwards, yet they form a forceless cup. One hand rests upon the other, hovering with horrific poise. They are the symbol of something greater. They are the guide to her maw – that which is sundered and broken.

Magenta lips form an almost perfect circle. Whimsically woeful wheezes waft from her blocked windpipe. Gentle, smooth skin quivers, beckoning to the feeble light still burning against the dark lands. Yet, as always, these features are mere preludes to the heart of the show. For it is within those majestically eyes - tinted white their flames nearly extinguished – where her greatest beauty lies.

It saddens me so to stare upon them. They are wide and dumbstruck. Upon this very moment even fear appears to radiate from that which is void of such. I yearn to quell their anguish – crush the iniquity abound. Oh how I dream to hold her, shroud her from her fears. Yet my body grows numb; eerie, cascading chills claiming my person…

"She is gorgeous, isn't she?" A calm voice, familiar and bearing a masculine twang, ripples upon the air. "A splendid angel amongst the tides of jaded normality." Heavy metal plates screech, shuffling against one another as the almost forgotten figure moves. "An elegant beauty born as the vanquisher of man's unyielding sorrow."

Sylvanas' eyes sweep upwards, landing upon a figure that clearly stands out amongst her visual empire. As she gasps for air she gazes upon the man looming before her. And as if commanded, I too throw my eyes upon the same individual.

Tall and wide, the man bears no qualities of famine. Heavy boots sink into the black, moist dirt and vanish beneath a heavy gray jacket. It covers the entirety of the figure's backside, this coat of his. Gentle wrinkles run the length of his legs, revealing how closely the apparel hugs his person. The rest, however, remains as smooth as silk. Light itself seems to catch upon the fabric, bursting into spontaneous pockets of calming illumination. It is almost as if staring upon a starry night – a poetic display amongst the rather bleak surroundings.

His arms tuck the frontal portion out of view, yet hold upon them the true spectacle. Simple, unmarked armor folds upon every inch of his arms. Each section would be as dull as any standard footman's armor if it were not from the outward facing edges of the metal.

As the mundane metal rounds to form a complete pass around his limb, it begins to ripple and roll as its solidity literally vanishes. The metal fades to black while large sheets stretch from the main body- these panes rolling and moving as if crafted of fire.

Each plate of metal commences with this rather remarkable display except for his gauntlets. Even his shoulders, mounted upon the thick arms, round upwards into a show of metallic fire; however the flame portion flickers brightly, revealing what can only be described as unrecognizable runes or letters.

"Some say, masked behind ignorance and unintelligible reasoning, women were born to vex man." My eyes shift, locking upon the smooth helm. A few plates overlap horizontally while the top portion runs to curved spikes that morph into the hypnotizing metallic flames. As I gaze upon his helmet, he turns a cheek to me, revealing a face plate and a lone orb born of violet fires. "While the truth beyond those vile words is unmistakably noted, another truth stands above its simplistic ideal."

Turning from me, he focuses his eyes upon the writhing Queen. He kneels, boiling my blood as he draws to her head. Close. "Every woman is created to fill an otherwise insatiable void of hate and misery. Every one crafted to close a pried gateway of rage and unbridled fury. That is the real truth."

Fury clutches at my heart and ravages my soul as he stretches an arm, tilting the palm to the side. Cupping his fingers, he despicably takes Sylvanas' head in his palm. "She is truly beautiful. Such smooth skin. Glorious supple lips. And how marvelous are these ruby diamonds of eyes? Gems amongst an already infallible creation of precious holdings."

Flinching, still unable to breath, the Queen hesitates before throwing a weak, lifeless claw at his person. He snatches it form the air, rotating it as if examining it. "And she has fight in her! Ha! Marvelous. A impressive trait amongst so many others. A goddess of elven blood." Once again he turns a metal cheek to me. "You have marvelous taste in women, Hope. I must say."

Fire burns my body and spurns my spirit. "Let go of her, you…monster," I barely spit as his vile fingers caress her. Alas, he continues on, ignoring me fully.

"She is her key. She is what extinguishes your raging inferno within. A shame, though, that she refuses to accept such a fate. But of course, she is the master of her destiny. The creator of her own purpose." He releases her. Swiftly he comes to his feet, eyes still locked upon her. "Yet, try as she might, I can see it in her eyes; you have before you the queen to your kingdom. Your hatred is nullified in her presence. Any anger is but a flickering flame amidst a damp cave…"

Slowly, eerily he turns upon his iron heels. Second by second he twists to face me. As he does he spews forth raspy, irritated words, "How I envy you, child. Your soul clotted while mine is devoured by the pit of chaos!" Aggravation coats his once calm voice, and the words he spews are deep and dark. "You hold upon you a gift of monumental proportions. But I don't need to tell you that. Do I?"

Ice crackles upon my spine, the fury lost. Frost consumes my numbing body. An entirety of anxiety flows through my veins, all concocted as the man faces me. My eyes lock upon his torso, the epicenter of his existence.

Chains run from his shoulders, sides of his chest, and from his belt, converging upon the middle of his ribcage. They are silver in color, matching that of his armor. Untarnished and rather bright, they run towards an object defining neither. Numerous quasi-circles hold upon the chains and compress against each other. Combined they form a pendent with perfectly round edges with cusps upon the top and bottom.

Dark, black marks run as smudges across the firmly pressed circles. These are born from a heavy, rolling flame that constantly pours form the core of the circles. A swirling vortex of flashing silver and black exists within the heart of the object, occupying a space where some sort of item surely should be placed. Gentle, black fires waft upwards, reaching the edge of the cusp prior to dissipating.

"She was meant to suffer the same fate as my love!" He shouts with intensifying rage. My eyes are drawn upwards to his head. His skin burns solid black within his armor, a frontal opening carved perfectly for a now absent faceplate. Where once this cover rested burns his expressionless, solid black skin. A mouth and nose are lacking, yet burning amidst the darkness are a set of piercing, magenta eyes…

"Oh how I envy you child!" Fiercely he strikes forward, plunging at my feeble person. He grips me with an exposed mitt crafted of pure ice. Effortlessly he lifts me. His eyes draw near as he raises me over his head. Each orb stabs to my heart. Each orb crushes down upon me. Each orb spews hatred undefined. "You did what I so foolishly failed to achieve. You accomplished what my arrogance blinded me from!"

Suddenly, as if his own internal combustions burn each other out, his skin lightens. Tan flesh burns while a pair of normal eyes gazes upon me – filled with despair. He is but a man in appearance. "My love fell…while I still stood. I couldn't protect her…"

Drifting from me he seems distracted by his own thoughts. Briefly, his eyes sweep side to side as some grand set of images cross his mind. Lips of a tormented man quiver, his strength sapped. Eyes run wind sprints, all energy exerted to prevent the inevitable. He is lost in his own past…

Then his brows lower, the malice returning. His eyes drift upwards to me once more, and his lips sharpened to a fine-tipped frown. "You were supposed to let her die, boy!" In a flash his skin erupts into an inferno of raging black fires. His eyes ignite into a violet torrent once more. "You were supposed to watch her writhe in unyielding anguish!"

He drags me close to him. "And so it would seem that the fates destined for you both have been reversed. Fates interlocked upon opposite charters." Raging fires subside slightly. "What a shame, Hope. You could have been a fine weapon of rage. A grand blade of Vengeance. My blade…"

Suddenly he releases his grip, letting me flop harshly upon the soft ground below. He sighs, peering down upon me with disdain and displeasure – his orbs telling me stories a face untold. "Alas, you are no longer in my hands, Hope Blackwood." He glances towards Sylvanas. "Enjoy your final moments with her, child. For I know, personally, that she shall not."

With those words a fierce pang forces my back to convulsing. My skull digs into the dirt while my legs flail uncontrollably. An entirety's worth of anguish compacted into one spontaneous moment. Such pain. Such agony…

"Hope," Sylvanas gasps as air returns. "Hope, what…what…is happening?"

"I. Don't. Know!" I scream in agony.

"Hope!" Shuffling pants ring upon the air and in a moment's passing I feel her calm hands wrap around my face. "Is it your stomach?" Frantically a hand press against the wound on my gut. "What did he do to you?" Wild anxiety coats her words. "What did he do to you?"

As she runs her hands across my stomach and upon my cheek, my will returns. Clenching my teeth, I bear the pain and control the spasms. With my remaining strength I gaze upon her, feeding upon her roaring red rubies.

"Just stay calm, Hope. Nathanos will be here any moment and we will get you patched up." She pulls my head upwards, holding me in her arms. "Just keep your eyes on me. Do that for your Queen. That is an order!"

She has no need to issue such a command. She knows full well that I gaze upon those precious gems regardless. As I stare upon them, my legs cease their wild twitching. I regain control of them and they slow rather quickly. Chills caress them prior to a relaxing numbness that consumes them.

The muscles upon her face seem to twitch as wildly as my legs – her look constantly altering. Her eyes stay fixated upon me, yet oscillate as if yearning to peruse my person. For a moment she appears as if worried then suddenly, as if her own rampant thoughts plague her she gnarls her teeth and grunts.

"Where is that fool," she angrily announces as she keeps her eyes with mine. "We are in the middle of an opening, how can my finest ranger not see me?" Her words are firmly aligned with her boiling rage, yet her eyes speak of another story.

Within her glorious pools I can decipher a tale of woe and despair. She is pained greatly, yet she has no way of expressing it. I can sense she wants to – her quivering hand another sign to this notion—but she has long forgotten how. Her brow curves upwards and her rage fades to sorrow. Chills caress where her hand lies.

"Hope, keep with me, ok?" Her words are a tune of which I have never heard before. They match that of her eyes…

She trembles, her gentle hands vibrating against my skin. I am not so sure why she is upset. She said I am going to be alright. My Queen doesn't lie to me. Yet her eyes scream a different notion. Her eyes holler of pain and suffering. And of an inevitable truth. A truth that wrought me as the wound on my stomach grows numb and a thought enters my mind: _It doesn't hurt any more…_

Those words strike at my sanity, the same very words I have heard a dozen times before. And I quickly come to realize that it is within her pools where my fate rests. Yet I feel neither anguish nor pain. Maybe her words are the real truths. Maybe I am going to be alright. Yes, she wouldn't lie to me…

I make to raise my arm, but it doesn't move. I want to comfort her, but I cannot muster the strength to even speak. All I can do is stare upon her, a rapidly expanding senseless feeling washing over me. Oddly, I cannot help but enjoy this moment. I, within her arms, feel the safest I ever have before. She keeps me close, rocking me as only in my dreams. For these few fleeting seconds she has taken to me as I so wished she would have so long ago.

Alas, as I stare into her eyes, she suddenly breaks sight. Wildly she sweeps my person before throwing her blood-caked hand upon my cheek. She gasps, wheezing as if stabbed through the heart. And the words that follow give to my revelation…

"Hope. Hope! Why are you cold? You are not supposed to be cold!" She presses her hand rapidly across my cheeks, praying to absorb from me the warmth she knows so well.

But it isn't coming. I know now that my Queen wasn't lying to me…

"Hope? HOPE!" She screams so loudly, shaking me gently…

_You will be alright. Young one, you will be just that._

My Queen never lies. For it is within her eyes where her truths were told.

_You are ready. Young one, it is time._

Suddenly, Sylvanas begins to scream, but I cannot hear her words. Her hands wrap around my face, yet I feel not. All I can do is stare upon her, the edges of my vision fading to black. I feed upon the pain, dreaming to end it. I want to comfort her, but I know I cannot.

All I can do is watch as I sink into my own existence, her face drawing into the distance - the entirety of my world becoming almost completely black. There is but a single image before. Nothing but a small glimmer of light, and what appears to be a set of red, flickering spheres. And then I can see her within the void, holding a man in her arms, rocking rhythmically. Her head is pressed against his, and she whimpers solemnly. A tear rolls across her cheek and dangles upon her chin. Then it drops, hitting him on the cheek.

I can feel it…a gentle, warm burst upon my skin…

I want to hold her, but I am so numb. I want to comfort her, but do not possess the strength. I want to stay...yet the darkness beckons me...

I just want to be with her…

I…just...want…her…

I…


	5. Chapter 5: All a Dream

A gentle wind tickles my cheek, dancing across my skin and wrapping around the hairs upon the back of my neck. Wild chills ping upon the nerves nestled within my shoulders and cascade down my spine. My entirety burns to an icy barrage, growing relaxed, yet my eyelids twitch, yearning to part.

I inhale deeply, feeding upon the frosty air. I exhale slowly, allowing waves of noisy activity to crash upon me. Multitudes of voices roll upon my ears - each one silent and each one familiar. Nathanos whispers quietly and angrily. Tok, the grand troll he is, chants in a near inaudible voice. And a sweet, enraged whisper of my Queen echoes as if just for me.

And appearing in my vision are a set of bright, ruby orbs. My Queen. A wave of relief envelops me; it was all a dream. Ok, maybe more like a nightmare, but nonetheless a façade. It must have been some trick upon entering this doomed existence. Oh well, at least it is over.

Breaking my lids, I find myself rather bemused. A firm darkness holds upon my vision, and there is no one nearby. The once calming tranquility vanishes with the fading ruby gems - in their wake only the shadows remain. My eyes slowly adapt to the shroud, and I find myself perplexed even further. Glancing downwards, I find that I am already standing. My legs are numb and unnaturally relaxed– as if they hold no actual weight.

I blink again, acclimating to the surroundings. It takes a few moments, but I quickly notice the stone walls blanketed in thick black to both sides. They appear to be crafted of natural rock, and I realize that I am in a cave. Twisting forward, I find a dull, eerie light that radiates from straight ahead. It must be the opening to this cavern. Though, it is quite a beautiful light...

Suddenly, as if on their own, a leg catapults forward. The other moves promptly, and I find myself shifting in the direction of the light. I can control the speed at which I move, but I am otherwise pulled unwillingly.

A worried mind stirs within my head, yet my body remains chilled and calm – no anxiety born. I sweep side to side once more, but that is futile. My body is tempted not by these dreaded findings. All it seems to want is the rays ahead. I have no idea what is wrong with me, but it must have something to do with that portal I entered near Darkshire. Has to be it…

As I move, gentle currents roll against my ears, tapping against the drums within. At first I think the sounds are my feet, yet the beats are too rapid. It seems as if there are more soles striking the dirt nearby. It seems as if there are people near me. But I cannot see a thing…

Nothing but the rapidly growing portal of illumination before me…

Once a mere flicker, the portal now burns as a looming passage. With every fleeting second its borders expand. With every pounding stomp the passage stretches. Yet the display is an illusion –a simple show for my accelerating person. And this show soon fills the entire span of my vision.

The light is overwhelming. The sheen is simply blinding. Even with my eyes shut, it burn brightly. It pierces all vales, all darkness. And with it comes a call incapable of withstanding. A beckon that lures my person…

It commands me…

Once the glow becomes as if staring upon the sun itself, it disappears. A deep darkness quickly sweeps my sight. Lingering pulsations crafted of light ripple upon my eyelids. It takes but a few moments before all this glorious radiation is washed away, and all I am left to is the darkness of my closed eyes.

"Oye," a raspy, startling voice crackles from my side, "this is new."

Sundering my eyelids promptly, I turn my head towards the source. My vision is intensely blurry; a thick, gray haze skews it further. I keep my focus to my side at eye level for just a moment before…

"Lad, down here," it calls once more.

Blinking rapidly, I attempt to shake the haze from my sight. I glance downwards towards the beckon, finding a stout, fuzzy figure. My focusing vision quickly discovers a clear, wide man that stands no higher than my knee. A thick, blue ponytail runs from an otherwise bald head. Of course, the long, overgrown beard upon his face and chin make up for that which is lacking on his scalp. Actually, much of his face and torso are lost beneath the fur – say for a large nose and a set of beady, navy-blue eyes. It is a dwarf, in rather ragged clothing. The clothing seems ripped in random spots and hung as if torn…

"This ye' first time here, Lad?" His beard parts for a tiny mouth to spew forth his deep, manly words. "It's ok."

I cock my brow in confusion. "Of course, dwarf. They just opened the portal..."

As I speak, a loud clank erupts from my foot - of hollowed metal struck by a worn leather sole. Interrupted, I throw my gaze downward. As expected, the once earthen ground has become a bitter slate of iron. Uncontrollably I cast my gaze upward. The once black walls have begun to absorb the meek illumination that pours from the entrance straight ahead and now radiate a dull gray; a new trait of the thick metal that hugs the jagged stone.

Spinning rearwards, I cannot dare forget the few bright moments of past. To my dismay, the once glowing vortex is nonexistent. All that remains is a dreary, black cave. That must have been the path between the portal and here – some sort of interdimensional rift.

"Keep moving!" booms an unfamiliar cry from ahead. "No time for sightseeing!"

I throw my gaze forward once more and activity of wild proportions stirs within my mind - though a calm body remains. My once cloudy vision kept from me the multitude of figures marching to the same beat as I. Dozens of people, each one gawking at their surrounding in utter amazement, move down this narrow pass. Some are clad in full armor, while others are adorn in simple fabrics, or elegant attire. Yet each one moves at the same pace. It is a rather eerie and odd sight. Alas, this spectacle blocks most of my vision and the few in front forgo my view of the entrance.

"Once outside, watch your step!" relays the unseen figure of prior. This time I am instantly able to decipher its location. He is rather tall and rather wide – a night elf, maybe? Before I can dare deduce the shadowy figure he continues, "Oh, and do heed the Taskmaster's demands." Swiftly my shoulder aligns with his darkened person, and equally as quickly he falls to my rear. "He doesn't care too much for the rebellious types."

I make to stop, but my legs will have none of it. My eyes stay fixated upon the fading person. He scans each and every passerby with an odd grin and a rather iniquitous twinkle in his eye. After a few moments of examining him, my neck reaching its twisting limits, I come to realize that he isn't an elf, but something…darker…

Suddenly, as my mind continues to wander, a dull, grayish light washes over me, and I instantly find myself stumbling over my own legs. Just barely am I capable of catching myself. My face faces the metallic, weak-lit iron. My hands press against my legs. My motionless legs…

"Sweet beard of Magni, this is new." The dwarf spits with a rather uncertain tune. "Very...very…new..."

Half-heartedly I toss the dwarf a weak glance. His tiny maw is sundered and his eyes scan without. The once confident man is now lost in some internal meanderings. I frown, figuring it's the world's largest keg. Then, as my eyes focus upon the backdrop, the deep chill I had forgotten returns. Intense waves of ice ripple across my flesh. My maw sunders wildly, and my chest tightens. Slowly, I lean backwards, returning upright…

But my eyes never flinch. They never blink…

The iron path we stand upon runs a short distance before coming to a set of equally spaced spikes. Iron chains run from each pike's pinnacle and hang before bending upwards to the next. I stand a good distance away, and betwixt it and myself are dozens of figures – a crowd of clustering characters.

Yet it is not with them where my interests land. No, it is what is beyond. Past the iron path is a dark plain. It molds into a steep cliff wall of utter darkness. Within the shrouded abyss are an array of movements and a display of feeble flashes. Thousands of them. It appears as if the cliff wall's themselves are pulsing in and out. It appears as if it breathing. But as I feast further, a set of piercing rays sweep the blackened display. The once thought living wall fades from mind, the hundreds of picks thrown the true source of movement. The once thought breathing façade falters to the true reality, the compilation of hundreds of laborers.

Frost consumes me. Following the spotlights back to originality, I find a horrible creation. A four-legged, metallic monster treads the valley's floor, casually throwing a spine-tipped, spider's-leg as if to mock the feverishly working workers. I have not an idea what it is. I have not a notion of its existence…but I know it stands tall and bright amongst the overwhelming black environment of which it dwells and its headlights illuminate all they gaze upon.

"Ladies and gentlemen," my wanderings are interrupted by the bay of a shrill, yet charming beckon from above. Though, my eyes dare not move from the quarry. "I do request your undivided attention." I hear his voice, yet I cannot move to the command. It would seem, however, many others cannot resist. And his rather annoying voice returns a few moments past, "Excellent! Excellent. Such swift eyes, it…"

Abruptly he halts. A second passes and then the voice returns, "I did mean all of you. ALL of you." His tune sways slightly, a bit perturbed.

"Lad," the dwarf catches my eye as he speaks, "he is looking at you." A small arm is thrown forward, a single digit pointing at something ahead.

Instinctively I peer forward. It takes a moment, but my eyes find the figure upon a platform overlooking this iron path – this bridge, I believe it is now. A man covered in iron stands near a set of weak lights that do no justice to his apparent poise. His head is cocked downward, and his gaze is directed this way. Upon me.

"Marvelous!" he claps as he ceases leaning on the railing angrily. "I know. The sights can be so distracting! Due to this, your…insolence…shall be ignored!" Once again he chants in an over joyous rant and he scans the crowd with glee. "Many of you may be confused, but that is as expected. But don't fret! All shall be revealed…"

As he speaks, his voice annoying, I find my eyes wandering once more. Gentle needles prick my spine as I cast my gaze downward. Hundreds upon hundreds of individuals stand in large pack, gazing upward mindlessly at their speaker.

My stomach knots as my eyes shift to the fringes of the bridge. For standing there, three-times my height, is a grotesque abomination. The figure is blackened, as expected, yet I can still taste the brown hue that radiates as a rot from its flesh. The monstrosity is as wide as he is tall. A pair of thick legs embrace the hulking creature and align with what appears to be long, braided instruments that hold to his limbs. Climbing upwards, I find four arms, two upon each side and one positioned above the other, that hang limp to his side. From the lower hand of each side holds the handle from which the rope is strung. Whips…

"Interesting! Oh, I know, but that is nothing," the aggravating cry catches my attention once more. Drifting upwards, I find the man scanning his audience. "Alas, time is but a fleeting tease, and as much as I yearn to entertain you, it is time to part. But, before we separate, just remember that if you follow orders, than you can always carry a part of me with you!"

A loud screech fills the air, metal scratching against metal. Movement below the speaker catches my attention. Straight ahead, perfectly aligned with the path, rises a large, iron door. Gentle sparks rain from the carved paths to the sides while a gentle cascade of teal light rolls from behind the door like a trapped beast to an unlocked cage.

The door moves slowly, crying an agonizing bay. With every passing second an overwhelming unease settles in upon me. My vision breaks from the door, the display sickening – for reasons unknown. Uncontrollably my eyes traverse upwards…frosty pangs devour, envelop and drill my soul. Following the framework of the door, I quickly realize that is but a fraction to its whole. Giant, overlapping chunks of metal round to form the frame to the blocker. To the sides is a pair of looming spires. Their walls are round with upward rising blades that end at a skyward point. Placed upon each peak is a black guardhouse, from which rays of diabolical keenness scan the pits below.

"As long as you remain calm and steady, you shall fit in perfectly!" the man cries, but I heed his words not…

No, my focus lies upon the curved sections of iron that form the rising, enormous edifice before me. My focus stays upon the narrowing girth of the building, as if a quasi-pyramid. My focus is fixated as my neck draws to its limits. It is there, upon the pinnacle of the dark building, where a thick stream of black clouds pour into the sky, blotting whatever light may dare fester here. It is a dark palace. A fortress of despair…

It is there, my eyes following the twisted blades that caress the black plumes, that I realize that something is not right...

"They lied!" A shrill screech catches my attention fully, and I return to the path ahead. Appearing in the now sundered door is a darting figure – his shadow intensified in the teal twilight. "They lied to me!"

His voice is horrific. His cries are terrifying. The entire pack around me begins to stir, the words striking their cores as deeply as mine…

"They promised me!" He throws a frightened gaze at his rear. "They promised me!"

His ranting pierces my sanity, and drives my thoughts to racing. Gentle cries rain from the individuals nearby as they begin back-peddling in horror, bumping into one another. Yet I understand their actions. My body cries to me as well: something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong…

"Stop that idiot!" The man upon the platform shouts rather angrily. "Shut him up!"

Reacting to the command, a four-armed beast moves from his position near the door. An arm is lifted, a braided leathery instrument hung. A fierce snap downward and the fine leather cracks as if one with the vile creature. Catching the man, the whip entangles with his legs and sends him crashing to the metal. Yet the man ignores it. He claws on, his face molded with fright. He digs into the iron as the beast tugs him back into the opening.

As he slides, he emits a screech that stuns my soul, and a bay that drives me to near-panicking, "It was supposed to be beautiful! It was supposed to be beautiful!" He repeats it over and over, his cry slowly fading to the growing screams of the people near me. "It was...supposed to be beautiful!"

Chaos consumes the crowd. Screams fill the air. Horror crushes all discipline and order. Overhead, the once firm man grows disturbed. His fists slam against the rails and a gnarled frown forms to his frustration. "Silence!" The crowd intensifies. "Quell yourselves immediately!" His fingers clutch the iron as if he is attempting to break it. Angrily he points at the nearby behemoths and cries, "Round these insolent insects up! They want it this way! Show them what they get for their…rebellious attitudes!" He is barely capable of spewing the words, his rage overwhelming…

Lumbering forward, the monsters cackle deep, demoniac laughs as they ready their weapons. People begin to falter, turning and running. I however gawk onward, completely bemused.

"He is right, lad." The dwarf, however, speaks calmly and clearly. "It was once beautiful…"

Uncontrollable confusion settles upon me, and I cast a gaze at the man. I firmly, yet nervously ask, "What is happening? What is this?"

He shrugs.

"Dwarf! What is going on? Where are we?"

A lone eye is cocked towards me and he frowns. "Sorry to be the bear'r of bad news, Lad, but ye…well…."

"What? Why did the portal send us here?" I shout almost angrily…

He sighs, and sweeps his brow with his large mitt as if pained by what I say.

I, however, lose myself to now burning anxiety, "Dwarf, where are we? Tell me!"

Again he sighs, "Lad, calm down. Ye'be in the dream, but not like ye'be think'n." He pauses. "Brace yourself lad." Once more a moment expires. "Lad...yer dead."

He pauses as my veins turn to ice. My mind ceases all activity. I can simply gawk at him as he raises his arms as if to show me what I already know. But his words destroy all reasoning and all strength I once had...

"Welcome to the glorious...beautiful...afterlife."


End file.
